


Ebony & Chestnut

by Lenadexil, RogueKynd



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones (Video Game 2014)
Genre: Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Language, RP fanfiction, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:26:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenadexil/pseuds/Lenadexil, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueKynd/pseuds/RogueKynd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gared wants to brush Jon's hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ebony & Chestnut

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is a fanwork and we claim no ownership of the characters or the original source material.  
>  **Notes:** This is an RP fanfiction divided into sections. The “——” mark being the indication of when character POV switches.
> 
> Can also be read on [tumblr](http://xelorgani.tumblr.com/post/122389118097/ebony-chestnut).
> 
>  **Lenadexil:** Jon Snow  
>  **RogueKyne:** Gared Tuttle
> 
> Beta read by my good buddy [JG/MasallCollegeUnderstudy](http://masallcollegeunderstudy.tumblr.com/).

Jon sighed as he pulled his nightshirt on, the cloth sliding against clean skin. Grabbing his towel once more, he ran it over his wild curls, drying them as much as possible to avoid them freezing in the night. After, he stretched his arms up, letting out a light moan, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. It wasn’t often that he got to bathe and the hot water did wonders for him. He’d already trimmed his beard down so that it wouldn’t be scraggly and his hand now touched his tangled curls.

He frowned as he put the towel near the fire where it could dry without freezing solid and ran his fingers through his hair, testing the tangles before wincing a bit. _‘Well this will be fun.’_ He knew he would be brushing his hair for a while, the knots always coming in worse after freshly washed. 

Dark eyes turned towards the door when he heard a sudden knock, a smile forming on his face. Knowing it could be only one person; one who was always more than welcome.

“Come in.”

——

Hearing the voice he knew all too well grant him permission to enter, Gared turned the knob and stepped through. The cell was drab, lit by a candle on a table with a fire going in the brazier. The surrounding walls a dark grey and dreary, but there in the center the cynosure sat. Quietly closing the door behind him, he greeted Jon with a smile.

“Evenin’,” Gared said, stepping further inside to stand before him. Looking him over, he could tell Jon was fresh from a bath, with his hair still damp framing his beautiful face; wearing his nightshirt that clung to his body a bit. At the hem, Jon’s ivory legs were exposed, grabbing some of his attention.

Gared himself was wearing a clean black tunic with his hair nearly dry, having also bathed moments ago. Well-deserved, he thought. With how long and hard the jobs had been lately, a bath was long over-due. As well as something else.

Studying Jon again, he hoped the same were on his mind. While keeping their relationship secret was paramount it left time for intimacy scarce. But tonight, Gared hoped maybe…

He then noticed Jon struggling to brush out the wet tangles in his hair, gritting his teeth in pain. “Do you need help?” he asked, a thought forming.

——

Jon smiled at Gared, taking in the sight of his mostly dry hair and the clean, more casual clothes he wore than their usual armor, liking the slight feeling of domesticity. The two of them simply planning to be together…it was something rare and every time they could manage to have some alone time, Jon cherished every second of it. Secrecy was the most important aspect to their relationship continuing but it was hard for him at times to keep himself in check.

_‘Nights like this make it all worth it…’_

Gared’s question drew Jon from his personal study of the other man and back to the current task, hissing as the knots were pulled painfully.

“No, I can manage it. I’ve been doing it this long after all.“ He could remember the times as a child he hadn’t brushed his hair after a bath, choosing to let it dry overnight and cringed. Those mornings were the worst, his hair so matted that he’d have to find Robb to help him.

 _‘And Robb was never the gentlest with a brush… Small wonder Arya came to me all the time.’_ It had taught him to not let it sit overnight and to deal with it directly right away.

"Just sit down, Gared. I’ll be done in a moment.”

——

But Gared had another idea. Seeing Jon about to lift the brush, he blurted out, _“Please?”_

It came out sounding more pleading than he wanted, but this had been a secret desire of his for a long time.

One of the first things Gared found so attractive about Jon was his luscious, thick hair. When he’d laid eyes upon it, all he wanted to do was touch it. And even with where they are now in their relationship, often he was left wanting. To keep up their facade, things like kissing were for certain only done behind closed doors, and touching of any kind only on very particular occasions out in the open.

Tonight, neither of them were assigned any late jobs and over the last few weeks, they haven’t had much time to see each other around Castle Black, let alone sneak affection privately. If they couldn’t make love tonight, Gared would understand, but he hoped to be allowed this at least. Folding his hands together, begging to be granted his wish.

“Please, Jon? Just once? I’ll promise to be gentle.”

——

Glancing towards him, Jon raised a curious eyebrow. “What are you, a handmaiden?”

A small laugh escaped him at the sight of Gared, whose hands folded as if praying to get to brush his hair. He could practically see the little puppy tail wagging behind his lover, picturing the floppy ears he and the others had figured Gared would have twitching up hopefully. His smile became gentle as he slowly held the brush out, Gared’s entire face lighting up with the action.

“Start near the ends and work your way up. Otherwise, it’ll be Robb all over again,” Jon instructed, turning away from Gared, waiting for him. He hadn’t let anyone else brush his hair in years, but he had trusted Gared with his deepest thoughts and regrets, his secrets and fears; he hadn’t betrayed that trust and he knew the other man would keep his word on being gentle with his hair.

“Gared,” he called to him over his shoulder, snapping him out of his daze. Jon couldn’t help thinking his joyful grin coupled with the wide brown eyes adorable. _‘I swear, at times he is a pup in all but body.’_

“Take it slow but go on. If it freezes or dries entirely with these knots, it’s going to be a nightmare getting them all out.”

——

“Oi, it’s not like that.” Gared rolled his eyes at that 'handmaiden’ joke, but immediately perked up when Jon agreed to let him brush his hair.

 _'Gods be good!’_ In his glee, however; he hadn’t realized the brush was being handed out to him; now noticing Jon waiting on him expectantly to take it. He barely contained his excitement, taking the brush delicately in his hand.

“Don’t worry. I’m fairly good at this.” Long ago, when his mother were still alive, she had taught him how at his own request. A young child of five who always admired how long and rich and soft to the touch his mother’s hair were and desired to brush it in the gentle way she would his. After she passed away, it had become his sister’s hair he would brush; it reminding him so much of their mother’s. Thick and slightly wavy with a deep brown shade similar to his own. Though his was more like their father’s.

Taking one handful of the messy, tangled curls, Gared started at the ends as he should, then carefully worked his way towards the middle, gingerly brushing out the knots and snags. As he worked, he couldn’t help marveling at how these black curved strands looked and felt in his palm. Watching in awe the way they straightened a moment with each pull of the brush before bending back naturally into their unique style.

“Your hair is so beautiful,” he said, enchanted.

——

Raising an eyebrow, Jon moved just enough to peek at Gared without hindering his brushing. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw how entranced Gared seemed to be touching and brushing his hair, as if it were spun gold instead of the rat’s nest it currently was.

“It’s nothing special, Gared. Truly, they’re just simple black curls.” He had seen many men with black hair and curls. His Uncle Benjen was just as dark haired as Jon was and Robb had curls just as he did,. The only difference between the two was the length and color. "In fact, you would have seen Robb before. You would know he had more curls than I.“

Noticing the brightness in Gared’s eyes dim a bit, he gave him a quick smile. "But you are good at brushing them out. You haven’t tugged once, not a single bit of pain.” A quiet laugh escaped him. “I’m sure you can guess how different that is from how Robb used to do it.” He hoped the joke would bring the grin back to the other’s face.

——

“Aye. But you’re wrong, Jon,” Gared said, holding a strand in the palm of his hand. True it were that King Robb’s hair was far curlier than Jon’s. Auburn, with red taking dominance, a sign of him being a Tully as well he were a Stark. Many had admired it when they gazed upon the crown he wore atop his head, especially said of that peculiar blond with a crossbow Gared saw oft at King Robb’s side.

But just like the King in the North, there were many men and women that possessed similar color and curls in their hair. Perhaps even of different styles and lengths Gared had seen. Yet out of them all, there was something about Jon’s that stood out to him the most.

“It’s not the curls. It’s, everythin’.” Gared stared at the curled locks; so unique and beautiful. “It’s deep ebony with hints of blue all through it, like when stars brighten a night sky. And doubtless softer than any silk.” Pausing from his task a moment, he temporarily replaced the brush with his fingers, loving the silky feeling between them. He loved Jon’s hair. Letting it fall back, he met his eyes and watched it perfectly frame his porcelain face. Making Jon appear so much like royalty rather than a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch living at a decaying keep like Castle Black.

Gared continued his work of brushing out the tangles. By now, it was mostly finished, but he wanted to keep at it just a little longer.

Jon tilted his head back then, peering up at him with a bewildered expression. Gared blinked. “What?”

——

Jon stared up at him with his head tilted back, raising both eyebrows at Gared’s words. “Never took you for a poet, Gared.” The description sounded as if it came straight from one of Old Nan’s stories of maidens and royalty, as if Gared saw him as some king.

As Gared finally finished, Jon raised a hand to run his fingers through his hair and was amazed to find no resistance, not a single snag or tangle in his usually difficult hair. “Well done, Gared. I’m impressed.”

Standing and turning to Gared, Jon looked him over with a smile before his eyes settled on his love’s chestnut locks. “But you know, I quite like yours more.” He knew before looking that Gared had a light blush dusting his cheeks from the compliment, his smile growing at the sight.

——

Running a hand over his own short, unremarkable hair that felt stringy to him now that it had fully dried, Gared shook his head. “Ah, mine’s a plain old brown and short.”

There really wasn’t anything special about his that he could see. Other than a slight wave to his fringes, it was trimmed low-cut close to his face, offering nothing of any interest to anyone’s gaze. Compared to Jon’s – eying those rich, shiny black curls again he brushed out – his might as well be straw.

“It used to be longer, but me uncle had me cut it when I became squire.” His Uncle Duncan had been very firm about keeping his hair short. He could recall him saying long hair risks the chance of an enemy who fights with no honor grabbing it. Sometimes, Gared couldn’t help but wonder if his uncle would ever offer that counsel to a lord or a king who had kept theirs long.

——

With a shake of his head, Jon reached a hand out and ran his fingers through Gared’s short strands, smiling gently at him.

“You could always grow it out again, but no matter what, I think your hair is stunning.” Taking a strand between his fingers, he sighed. “It’s so soft and I love the waves in it. And the color, just like chestnuts, with some slight reds when the light hits it just right.”

Meeting Gared’s eyes again, hope showed on his own face now. “Gared, would you mind if I brushed your hair now?” The feel of Gared’s hair against his fingers was too tempting and Jon found himself wanting to take the time to return the favor. While he knew it wouldn’t take nearly as long as his own had, any time he could have to enjoy the simple act would be enough. To be able to brush the other’s hair, make it even softer with each stroke.

——

Jon raking his fingers through his hair felt like heaven to Gared. His body shivered under his touch, closing his eyes, relaxing.

They opened again as his lover rained him with compliments he did not deserve over his ordinary hair. Peering into those dark eyes illuminated by both the fire in the brazier and the single candle perched on his table, he could see the honestly behind each praising word in them, bringing a smile to his lips.

Jon’s request raises his eyebrow this time. “M-Mine?” He blushed at the thought, awkwardly bringing up a hand to scratch at the back of his head, averting his eyes to the fading black stonewall of the room. “But I’ve already brushed it.”

——

Jon couldn’t deny the truth of Gared’s words; there were no tangles or snares in his hair, it wasn’t even mussed. It only had the natural wave in the fringe. “Hmm…”

Gared’s only warning was the smirk that appeared on Jon’s face before both of his hands were suddenly in his hair, making a terrible mess of it. The once brushed and tamed locks were suddenly in complete disarray, standing up in all directions and disheveled. “Brushed it, did you?”

At the look of utter disbelief on Gared’s face from what had just happened, Jon couldn’t hold back his laughter. _'He has no idea just how much I used to really get up to…’_ Reaching for the brush, he took it from the other’s loose grip. “Now, now, Gared. It won’t do to go to bed with your hair like this. Sit down and I’ll fix it.”

——

It happened all too fast for the ex-squire to react, and once it were over, all Gared could do was stand there, staring at the steward incredulously.

When first meeting Jon, the first thing learned about him was his sullen expression and serious nature; with only his closest aware of his mischievous streak well hidden beneath the surface. Though Gared had gotten more than close enough to know about it, it still managed to catch him off guard that Jon had just literally, and quite childishly, mussed his hair, and even teased innocently by acting as though it were his fault.

 _'I swear…’_ Gared shook his head with a lopsided smile. Truthfully, he wasn’t angry with Jon. If anything, it made him feel happy Jon could be playful with him when the occasion allowed for it.

Deciding to let him have his way since he’d gone through the trouble of mussing it up, he takes seat on the chair Jon had been using. Places now exchanged with him sitting and Jon standing behind him with the brush in hand.

——

Jon’s own smile answered Gared’s lopsided one, knowing that only a very small handful of people would believe him if he ever told them Jon had acted as he had. No one else would believe he had intentionally mussed up Gared’s hair so he would get to brush it back out.

Standing behind his lover, Jon carefully pulled the brush through his short, soft strands. As he did, a sad, nostalgic feeling filled him. “I used to do this for Arya all the time. She said her handmaidens were rubbish at it and always came to me…” The thought of his little sister brought up memories from Winterfell, of her and all the others…

Looking to take his mind off the memories, Jon leaned closer to Gared’s ear. “I truly do like yours more, Gared.” His breath ghosted against the other’s skin as he whispered to him, keeping the brush moving slow and steady. He wanted to make this last as long as he could but had no delusions about it lasting much longer.

Dark eyes focused back on his task, mesmerized by the colors dancing in the ex-squire’s hair from the flames in the room. The chestnut brown as well as hints of red intermixed held his attention like nothing else.

Slowly, Jon leaned down and pressed his lips to the lock of hair in his palm, smiling. “Beautiful…”

——

Unfortunately, Gared couldn’t comprehend what Jon found so fascinating about his hair. Once more recalling how lovely his mother’s hair was, as were his sister’s who inherited it while his were modest like his father’s. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t reject his kindness.

Sympathy washed over Gared hearing Jon speak about his sister. It was another thing they shared between them, only that his had been slain, while Jon only could wonder what became of Princess Arya.

 _'At least I can be at peace…’_ Gared thought sadly, wishing it were the same for the older man.

The bristles of the brush slid through each strand, gently guided by Jon. Goose pimples began forming on his arms. Chills creeping down his spine as Jon whispered another compliment into his ear while his other hand massaged his back. Treating him delicately as a handmaiden would her lady.

 _'Who’s acting the handmaiden now?’_ Gared joked to himself. He’d never had any type of servant tend to him before. Only his sister Jenna would do this back when he worked on his father’s farm. “It’s only fair”, she used to tell him after he brushed hers, giving him much the same praise he’d given her. Thinking on it, he realized how similar this was to those times…

The kiss surprises him out of his thoughts, causing his heart to flutter in his chest. He felt Jon hold a lock of his hair gingerly a moment longer, as though not wanting to pull his eyes away, before slowly letting it fall back to join in with the rest, running the brush through a final time.

Turning around to face him after he’d finished, Gared was awed at Jon’s handiwork. Not only had he managed to fix the mess he caused, but brush it out better than he had. Touching around, it didn’t feel like string under his hand, feeling almost as nice as Jon’s.

Smiling, Gared rose, still smoothing his hand out over his newly brushed hair. “You did fantastic, Jon. Thank you,” he said, adding with a cheeky grin, “Even though it were you who messed it up.”

——

“But well worth it. Look how much what I said is true with a bit more brushing, hm?” Jon joked lightly, carefully running his fingers through the silky locks once more. Gared’s hair easily slid through his fingers. His smile became more loving as he met the younger’s brown eyes and slowly leaned in, closing the distance between them and meeting his lips in a slow kiss.

Slowly bringing his hands up, he held Gared’s face between them as his tongue darted out, given entrance to his lover’s mouth instantly. A soft moan escaped him as the unique taste of Gared met his senses, realizing just how long it’s been since he’d been able to kiss him like this.

After a few moments of the simple kissing, Jon pulled away and panted softly as he met Gared’s gaze through half-lidded eyes. “I…I’m so sorry, Gared.” He watched the chestnut-haired man til his head in confusion, the pout on his face adorable. Leaning closer, Jon let his lips brush against Gared’s ear as he whispered to him.

“I’m afraid I’m going to mess your hair up again.”

——

It took little more than a second for Gared to catch the meaning of Jon’s words. Arousal coursed through him, gripping Jon and jamming their lips together again, fingers tangling up in ebony tresses. The prime reason he’d snuck to Jon’s room resurfaces in his mind, and suddenly he’s aware he’s wearing too much while the other man wore only his night robe.

The kiss lasts to him finding his back pressed to the top of Jon’s bed, pinned under the weight of his lover who next pulled his scarf off, exposing his neck, then moving from his lips to begin a trail down his skin, causing a whimper to escape Gared’s throat.

As Jon takes over him with each passionate action, Gared’s fingers remained lost in black curls. Gared loved Jon’s hair. It was one of the many attractive features that had drawn him to the man; simply unlike any other’s he’d seen, and Gared savored each chance he got to touch it.

But best of all, he loved getting to tug on it as he was being fucked into the cot all night long.


End file.
